Knit in Comfort by Isabel Sharpe

Author:Isabel Sharpe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2010-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Elizabeth opened her eyes, feeling as if she’d been encased in acrylic. She hated afternoon naps, always woke up sick and disoriented and groggy. But today had been warm, she’d slept badly last night, spent the morning trying to sketch, took a long walk, brooded, meditated, brooded some more, then turned down the chance after lunch to go with the family to Hendersonville for shopping and a movie. They’d taken two cars in case Vera got tired and wanted to come home early; Elizabeth had parked hers at David’s so they could get back into the garage easily.

Without the Morgans around, her apartment had been too quiet; the yard felt foreign and lonely, making Elizabeth even more miserable and restless than the day before and the day before that, then suddenly exhausted to the point of stupor. Even working on the lace for Sally’s dress didn’t help much. She’d hoped, having discovered that cherished sense of belonging to the Purls, that the euphoria would carry over, but it hadn’t.

She’d dragged herself to bed, even knowing she’d regret it later, and hit a deep sleep almost immediately. Dreams had come, first of Gillian and Fiona in thong bikinis mud-wrestling in a Shetland peat pit surrounded by shouting, leering men. Then of David’s wife, Victoria, in black leather chaps and bustier, flogging a group of groveling, naked man-slaves.

Nice.

Slightly more awake, she tried to sit up, failed and let herself flop back down. The brass Cupid next to her bed offered his flowerpot goblet. Honeyed mead? Nectar?

Dust and a dead fly.

Absence of human noise blew through her windows with the breeze undulating the lace curtains. She caught herself wishing even for traffic sounds, a car horn or a shouting cabdriver. Cicadas would have to do, their quintessential summertime buzz a cross between a metal saw and a dentist’s drill.

She rolled over, suddenly missing Dominique so badly she could barely stand it, reached into her purse and dug out her cell, dialed his number and lay back, hand covering her eyes.

“Dom, it’s me.”

“Elizabeth!” He sounded so pleased and surprised, she felt the warm swell in her heart that had been absent too long. “How are things going?”

“Fine. They’re fine.” She struggled up onto her elbows, brushed the hair out of her face. “I’m actually not in New York.”

“Ah, no?” He mumbled something away from the phone. “Where are you, ma petite?”

“In North Carolina. Who are you with?”

“Samuel Luxe. You remember him from our Easter party last year?”

“Of course.”

“We’re having a glass of mediocre wine in a pub after a truly despicable dinner. My God, what these English think passes for food. Bangers and mash? Somebody shoot me.”

“Good hunting today?”

“Yeah, okay. Not great, but okay. These are not French quality, you understand, but convincing and less than half the price. I am getting good ideas here, Elizabeth. Big ideas. This will be very exciting for the restaurant. Truffles have such a mystique, you know. Making the dishes more affordable will draw press and crowds.

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